Chapter Forty-Four

The second Aeron took his first step back on Earth, the pleasant scent of autumn washed over him. The slightly muted smell of dry leaves and wet mud crashed through his nostrils like a tidal wave, which—for a second—brought a faint smile to his face. "I wonder how much time has passed since I left?" he thought as he rubbed his chin. The passage of time in the mortal realm was much faster than in Heaven or Hell. Even though he had only been gone for less than a day, months must've passed back here. "I wonder if Zia's okay." Even though she couldn't die, her body wasn't immune to pain. If Poseidon wanted to have the ambassador tortured, he'd have no problem in doing so. "Hopefully, Zia managed to escape with Elizabeth and Kashif." That was a definite possibility considering that she had his gavel. However, it was equally probable that one of the monsters managed to disarm her before she reached her guards. After all, when it came to using gavels, she was practically flying blind.

"Ca-caw!" a nearby crow went as it flew ominously through the clouds, dropping black feathers with every flap of its wings. Aeron watched it glide gently over the landscape before eventually landing on a small bench near an expansive rocky coastline.

"This looks familiar," he thought as he wandered up to the edge and placed a cigarette in his mouth. In one fluid motion, he whipped his weapon out of its sheath and pressed it against the flammable paper—instantly lighting the stick of fruit ablaze. Since he didn't know where he was, he planned on using the drug's senses-enhancing effects to identify his location. Once they kicked in, he focused for a tiny bit and managed to find what he was looking for. Namely, the unmistakable guttural churns of civilization. "I guess I'll head over there and see if I can dig up any information." Poseidon fashioned himself to be a god of the sea, and after being chained up for thousands of years, Aeron doubted that he was in an excellent mood.

Before heading off, the Cherub turned around and took one last look at the ocean before him. Off in the distance, past the numerous waves and rocks, he could see the faint shimmering outline of a cityscape. The silhouette vanished with every passing crest, but then—moments later—it would reemerge. "I must be seeing things," he mumbled as he rubbed his tired eyes. After a few minutes of watching the image appear and disappear, curiosity got the better of him, and he unfurled his wings. "It wouldn't hurt to check." With that, he leaped into the sky and rocketed off towards the mirage. Yet, when he finally arrived, all he found was nothing but open water. "Damn, it must've been an illusion." As he held his burning cigarette, he stared up at the heavens and blew smoke softly towards the clouds. "Heh, look at that, now I'm getting all nostalgic." At the end of his last assignment, he floated above Earth's oceans in this same position. "So much has happened between now and then," he whispered to himself as he peered longingly at his charred wings. "Yup," he thought, "that'll take some getting used to."

After that, he finished off his cigarette and tossed the stray ashes into the ocean. The burning bud sizzled out the second it touched the water, disappearing beneath the roaring waves. "I need to get going," he exclaimed as he watched the stray strands of ash disintegrate in the air. As the last ember vanished, Aeron cracked his neck and rocketed back towards the coastline. "Hmm… was there really nothing here?" He was so sure that he saw something. However, before thinking further on the issue, he stopped that train of thought in its tracks. He couldn't afford to let himself get sidetracked by daydreams. "I should probably go check out that village I overheard." Any information, even if it was from mortals, was invaluable at this point.

He reached the distant town in a handful of minutes. It was a quaint hamlet lying on the river's edge, with several large houses and a moderately-sized population. "That looks like a good place to land," he mumbled when he noticed a big grove of trees sitting next to the town's border. The thick canopy would easily obscure him from view—giving him more than enough time to get back on the ground. Quickly, he dove into the greenery like a falcon. "Ouch, that was rough," he hissed as he stared at his shaking hands, which were wrapped around two jagged branches. Thank God he retracted his wings before landing, or they too would've been entangled in the web of bark and leaves.

"Now then," he exclaimed as he let himself plummet down into the grass. "Where in the world am I?" Thankfully, a large sign displaying the town's name answered his question. "Hmm… unless I'm mistaken, the dig site where I found Poseidon's trident shouldn't be far from here." Of course, that also meant that his pursuers weren't far either. "I'll have to be quick." And so—after straightening his outfit and dusting himself off—he strolled into the hamlet. Unlike London, which was covered in large buildings and infrastructure, this place's layout was much more simplistic. It consisted of mostly straight roads and dirt paths with the occasional dead end. Buildings of all shapes and sizes lined the streets, with a couple as high as five stories. As people walked past him, Aeron took a moment to look around for any vendors or clues. If he were lucky, he'd be able to buy a newspaper or something similar from one of them.

Sadly, after searching through the main square for tens of minutes, he couldn't find anything. "I guess this place must be pretty out of the way," he grumbled. "There isn't a single salesman anywhere." Ordinarily, he'd shrug such an inconvenience off, but something wasn't right. "This doesn't make any sense. Isn't there a war going on?" Plus, if this place was close to the dig site, that meant that the front lines weren't too far away. So why was everyone acting so… normal? "I don't like this," he thought. "This entire town feels wrong." He didn't notice it at first, but this whole place exuded a dangerous aura. And, when he took a moment to take in a deep breath of the town's air, he instantly understood why. "This smell!" he thought as his hand instinctively went to his blade's hilt. The entire village seemed to be drenched in a familiar moldy scent—one that he got a nose full of back in London. "Could there be a kelpie around here?" Given recent events, that was a definite possibility.

The second the horrid scent reached his nostrils, Aeron hurried towards its source. Around every corner, he could see tiny colonies of black mold growing out of the alleyways, along with a copious amount of familiar orange pus. The strange part was—even though this stuff was everywhere—none of the citizens seemed to notice its presence. "It's right under their noses, and these fools can't see a thing." It was apparent that their primitive senses couldn't pick up the monstrous fungus. Which, of course, meant that any nearby kelpie could move throughout the city at their leisure. It went without saying that locating the monsters would've been practically impossible if this was all he had to work with. However, after his numerous encounters with the creatures, he started to recognize some telltale signs of their presence. Specifically, that they always appeared near a source of water. And—if that was the case—all he would have to do to corner his prey was find the nearest faucet. "I remember seeing a river when I flew over this area earlier," he thought. In this situation, his senses were as sharp as a knife. Soon, he came upon a large, muddy stream in the center of town. After taking just one look into its murky depths, he knew he'd hit the jackpot. "Bingo," he muttered when he noticed a couple of humanoid shadows squirming beneath the water's surface.

When he was sure that no mortals were looking, he lowered his hand to his sword's hilt and pushed it slightly out of its sheath—exposing the blade to the open air. The effect was practically instantaneous, and suddenly, as if someone had placed the river atop a hot skillet, the water started to steam and churn. The hellish heat the blade was exuding was potent enough to char the stone sidewalk beneath him and slightly melt the metal railing he was leaning against. "Now, come on, take the bait," he thought as he watched the water begin to boil, causing the shadows underneath to start to rise to the surface. Most were smart enough to stay under and swim further down the river; however, one wasn't so lucky. Before the creature leaped out, Aeron sheathed his weapon and hopped onto the railing. For a moment, he felt as if he were on a leisurely fishing trip.

"Now, come to me," he mumbled. At this point, the kelpie's fate was sealed. The poor bastard was probably too distracted pondering what was happening to notice his presence. So, when it finally exposed its scaly body to the open air, he caught the creature entirely by surprise. Aeron clamped his arms around the creature's torso like a starving crocodile. Once he had a good hold on the monster, he started to squeeze, breaking some of the kelpie's ribs in the process. "We're going to have some fun, you and I," the Cherub cooed as his right hand snapped to the kelpie's neck—stopping it from crying out for help. "Whoops… be careful, we can't have you alerting your friends, or—God help us—the mortals. So, calm down and come with me." With that, Aeron hastily dragged the creature deep into the nearest alleyway. Once he was sure that nobody would be able to hear them, he slammed the monster into the hard ground. He did this with so much force that he cracked the stone and shook several nearby buildings, causing piles of dust and leaves to come tumbling off the roofs.

"Gah!" the monster heaved as its tentacles swarmed in every direction.

"These things were kelpies all along—I never would've guessed," Aeron thought as he stared at the hideous beast. Now that he had the time to think and inspect the fiend's body up close, the Cherub realized that the similarities between these creatures and the monsters that attacked him back in London were painfully obvious—such as both having the same fishlike smell. "Hey, squid face, your type can talk, right? Speak up!" Aeron yelled as he dug his boot into the kelpie's jaw.

"Bastard! If you want me to talk, stop trying to break my jaw!" the beast screeched as it struggled to get back up off the ground. However, before it could get on its feet, Aeron took his sheathed sword and smacked the creature back down into the stone road.

"You aren't allowed to stand up yet, got it?" he hissed as he grabbed a handful of the monster's tentacles and started to pull. "Do you know who I am?" he asked as he forced the beast to stare right into his eyes. When it nodded, Aeron grinned and took a step back. "Good, that will make this easier. To escape this little predicament, all you've got to do is answer one question: where is your boss? Where is Poseidon?" There was no way that someone who thought himself a God was hiding out in the middle of nowhere. Those types were prideful, and the places they stayed in reflected that trait. Predictably—after asking that question—the kelpie's mouth shut tighter than a clam. "Hmm… the little rat doesn't want to betray its master. How dull."

"Do with me what you will, Angel. I'm not afraid," the fiend growled. As it opened its mouth, Aeron caught a glimpse of its black beak—which was hidden beneath its tentacles. The way it quivered reminded him of a terrified mortal's lips, and its eyes, while small and beady, conveyed a level of emotion that Aeron assumed was impossible for such a grotesque figure. When he realized that, he could only smirk.

"Tell me, beast, does your kind consider each other as friends or allies?" he continued as he sat next to his victim's bruised body, almost as if they were old friends. While it struggled to turn its gaze up to him, Aeron looked down at the monster's sorry form and grinned with the warmth of a loving saint. For a second, the kelpie seemed confused—it believed it was staring at a different person. "Don't forget that I'm a Cherub, one of Poseidon's brethren. I can easily tell if you're afraid. So," Aeron started as he snapped his fingers and slowly unsheathed his blade, "please don't lie to me. I know that you're shaking in your boots; let's not waste any more time." With that, he took his sword and pressed the blade against the creature's skin. The extreme heat caused its flesh to pop like water in a kettle, and within seconds it was howling out for mercy. "As I'm sure your master already told you, I'm a judge. My job is to punish the sinful. Siding with a fallen Angel isn't something that those in good faith usually do. So, take this as your divine punishment." To be brutally honest, the main reason he was torturing this poor beast was for revenge. As he saw it, the pain they put him and Zia through back at the dig site was more than enough to justify his actions.

"Fine! I understand! I'll tell you where he is! Just stop!" the creature howled right as he started digging into its flesh. With the fear of God now running through the monster's veins, Aeron was confident that it would tell him the truth.

"Good… however, I'll need more than just an answer," he started as he reached down and hoisted the kelpie by its scruff. While it groaned and struggled, Aeron unfurled his wings and catapulted himself into the sky. "You see, I can't trust your word alone, so I'll need you to be my guide. You don't mind, do you?" Since they were flying through the clouds at breakneck speeds, the kelpie couldn't respond, but that was fine. Aeron already knew that the monster agreed. It had resigned itself to its fate—which made his job more manageable. "Zia, Elizabeth, Kashif," he thought as he stared at the sun hovering above the clouds. "Don't worry. You only have to wait a little bit longer. I'm on my way."

One year ago...

And thus, the promised day has finally arrived. I've decided the fate of this world. In a way, I consider my chosen method of rehabilitation strangely poetic. The people chose to drown themselves in sin, so I'll wash them away. The rains will start soon and will quickly evolve into giant torrents. Once it starts, no one will be able to stop it. At times like this, I like to sit back and enjoy the show, but, for some reason, at this moment, I feel strangely sad. I'm not sure how to describe it, but… after years of watching mortals go about their daily lives, I feel like I'm missing something. Something close, warm, and tender. I pondered what the source of this weird sense of longing could be, but I kept coming up short. I wouldn't be surprised if it's just my nerves talking. That's almost definitely what it is. Nothing more than the stress of a bored Cherub.